


Things of Value

by masked



Series: The Last Leaf [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, But hopefully mostly fluff, Castiel's eraser abuse, Depression, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masked/pseuds/masked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Certain items hold different values for everyone. This is the story about one of Dean Winchester's most treasured items.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things of Value

**Author's Note:**

> The Last Leaf Timestamp.
> 
> Takes place before the "Some indefinite time later" part of The Last Leaf.

Treasured possessions differ for all individuals. They could hold a lot of significance even when taken out of context (see relationship between the One Ring to Rule Them All and Smeagle), but more often than not, they don't.

A 42 year old man who lives in Toronto for example, values his old worn out leather wallet that he keeps in a small white box that sat on the top shelf of his closet. It was his first year anniversary present from his now wife. It had torn up holes on the sides and he was finally forced to replace the wallet with a newer one when he kept losing his gym membership and his library card. Still, he would sometimes take it out of the box and gaze at it fondly with nostalgic memories.

A 5 year old girl who lives in Seoul currently values an oddly-shaped rock. There was nothing special about the rock really, but she pretends it to be the most important rock of the whole universe and she was the only one who could carry out the quest to save the rest of the world with it. Or something. The story changed every day.

Some items lose their values as life goes on, and some of their values change when relationships are severed or formed. 

A 19 year old girl in Sugarland carried her Hello Kitty ring that didn't fit her anymore since she received it from her father at the age of 8 from his business trip to China, until she found out that her father had been cheating on her mother for the past 3 years and even had a daughter off on the side. Later that day, she threw the ring away in disgust. 

A 28 year old man at New York still carried his dog's blue leash in the glove department of his car. He's not sure when he would be ready to look at it without bursting into tears, and sometimes wishes he could just throw it away, but Betsy deserved better than to be forgotten. This was his way of remembering her.

Dean Winchester has a few treasured possessions of his own. The photo of his late mom and him in his wallet, the amulet necklace from his younger brother Sam, his car the Impala and the cassette tapes from his late dad. These items all have a story of their own, but those are for a later occasion. This is a brief story that touches upon how Dean added another item to his list.

Dean went for a walk after he and Sam came back from visiting Castiel at the hospital. Sam was a little worried at first, but seemed to decide that Dean was a big boy enough to go on a walk by himself, especially after finally scoring a date with Castiel.

Dean walked over to the neighbour building of their apartment with its red brick walls. He carefully avoided the wet clumps of ivy leaves littered all over the street from the storm as he made his way to his destination. 

He stood in front of the wall with a single yellow ivy leaf painted on. Yes, upon closer inspection, it was apparent that the leaf was created with human hands rather than by nature. It looked a bit blotchy, as if it was painted on in haste, but the details were still attentively done with care. 

Dean studied the leaf for a few minutes. He stepped back a few steps and snapped a picture of it with his phone. He frowned at the picture, blurry and shaky from his hands moving too much. He deleted it and took pictures of the leaf until he was finally satisfied with the result.

The next day, Dean visited Castiel again with Sam. Afterwards, he dropped Sam off at the apartment and drove over to the closest mall. To Dean's relief, the assistant at the brand photo center was very helpful, and he walked out with one framed 4x6 photo of the leaf. After he arrived home, he safely tucked the frame away in the drawer of his desk. 

After Castiel was out of the hospital, Dean went on a dinner date with him. They had a great first date together, and Dean managed to snag a kiss before regretfully leaving Castiel for the night. 'Leaving him for the night' actually just meant Dean bidding Castiel a good night, walk ten strides over and pull his own set of keys out as they glanced at each other, sharing secretive smiles. Still, Dean sighed in content after he closed the door behind him, wishing that it was the next day already so he could have an excuse to go knock on Castiel's door. He looked out the window that night, smiled at the little yellow leaf painted on the wall, and went to bed.

Two weeks after that, when Dean looked out the window as his morning ritual, the leaf was gone. Painted over with grey paint by the public services to get rid of the city's vandalism. 

Later that day, Sam cornered Dean by the fridge, his huge frame hovering over Dean. Dean sometimes wondered if Sam was actually a rabid werewolf trying to blend in with the rest of humanity (with that haircut, he wouldn't be too surprised) and this was one of those times as a dangerous glint crossed Sam's eyes. 

"Dean, have you-" Sam looked like he was about to maim someone. Dean realized he was angry, but not towards him. "Have you seen the wall today?"

Dean blinked at his brother. He did not know the leaf was also important to Sam. "Yeah?"

"You're okay with that?" Sam's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he took a thick swallow. "I mean, it was... important."

He suddenly realized that Sam was angry _for_ him because he understood of its significance to Dean. "Yeah." Dean shrugged. "Not like I don't realize that it wasn't from Cas spending hours in the rain to get into my pants." He grinned. 

Sam scrunched up and produced one of his best bitchface Dean had seen up to date. "Dean, you know that's not why."

Dean's grin turned into a slight smile. "Yeah, I know." He clamped Sam by the shoulder. "It was bound to happen, though. Better than some teenager spray painting all over it, I guess." Dean paused at the thought. "Man, I would've been pissed if that happened."

"So..."

"I'm fine, Sammy." Dean said reassuringly, which only then Sam relaxed a little. He still had a frown on his face.

"I wish they didn't have to do that." Sam said mournfully. "Cas put so much effort into it. He even called it his masterpiece."

Dean silently agreed. Castiel, on the other hand, didn't seem as affected.

"It was my masterpiece, yes. It will remain as so." He replied when asked about it the next night, looking away from his physics lab report. 

"You sure you don't want to paint something else you can show the world and call it your masterpiece?" Dean asked with light humour. "It meant a lot to you, didn't it? Having one."

Castiel put his pencil down at that, and clasped his hands together to meet Dean's eyes straight up. "I put more effort and passion into painting that leaf than anything else in my whole life and doubt I will ever be able to do so again. I poured my soul into it and in turn, it gave you strength and dared you to hope again. So no, Dean." Castiel said, dropping his gaze and going back to his report. "I will never have another masterpiece other than it, even if I tried. Nor would I want to."

Dean felt a clutch in his stomach. It seemed to do that a lot around Castiel. "But you won't have anything to show for it." He said, almost a whisper.

Castiel's lips twitched upwards at the statement. "You are the living proof that it existed."

That night, Dean took the framed photo out for the first time since he had tucked it away. He wasn't fine that they covered the original up. Not really. To be honest, he hadn't expected that someone would cover it up, and it was as much of a shock to him as it was to Sam when he saw the grey paint covered wall in the morning. He looked at the picture of a yellow leaf painted against the red brick wall for a few minutes before putting it back in its place and drifted into sleep.

A few months after, Dean was alone in the apartment when he suddenly felt horrible. He wasn't sure what triggered the mood, but all he knew was that he felt miserable and was replaying his dad's criticisms recorded at the back of his brain over and over again. It was even harder because of how happy he's been lately. He took the picture out and clutched it to his chest while he cried in the darkness of his room. The next morning, he woke up and groggily stumbled over to his drawer to put the picture away.

He had a few relapses after that, and every time, he took comfort in holding the picture, sometimes smudging the glass with his tears and fingerprints. 

Sometime later, Dean and Castiel had their first fight.

Looking back now, it was a silly thing to fight over (not to mention petty), but it seemed important at the time. Neither of them apologized, and what started out as a slit between them became a gaping hole by the end of the week. Sam was stuck in between the crossfire of his brother and his best friend, and had the painful role of being the mediator between the two because they weren't able to exist in the same room without ending up throwing insults at each other until one of them stormed out of the room. Because it was also their very first fight, neither of them knew how to make up, and were both too proud to be the first one to approach the other and apologize, even though they sorely missed each other's company.

Every night during the period of the fight with Castiel, Dean opened the drawer slowly with hesitation and closed it back again with a sharp pang of anger, guilt, hurt. What was he suppose to do if the one thing that had given him comfort all these months had turned on him to become one of the highest peaks on his emotional roller coaster ride? He stood in the dark with conflict of wanting to look at the thing and wishing he knew a way to travel back to the past and fix everything. He couldn't look at the painting without thinking of Castiel, and at that exact moment he realized exactly just how much Castiel meant to him, and just how precious the relationship he had was, as he would have put it, before shit hit the fan. 

He had burst out of his room then, startling Sam who was in the living room, and almost ripped his front door open, only to see a startled Castiel standing in front of him, startling Dean (everyone was just startled at this point). His hand was raised like he was just about to knock, and he slowly dropped his hand as he began, "Dean-"

Before Castiel could even finish, Dean grabbed both side of his face and kissed him desperately, Sam's brain cells be damned. For a split second Dean panicked that maybe Castiel came by to break things off with him for good and maybe he shouldn't be kissing the guy when Castiel started kissing back, just as desperate as Dean felt. He heard Sam groan "Guys, _seriously_? Can't you at least give me a little warning?" and vaguely realized that Sam had left the apartment to stay next door by the time Castiel closed the door behind him and Dean ripped Castiel's shirt off.

Castiel broke the kiss for a gasp of air. "Dean, I'm sorry-"

"Me too." Dean replied, peppering kisses down Castiel's neck. "Less talking. More fucking."

Castiel growled in agreement at that, and they stumbled back into Dean's room, breathing in synchronization as they lied shoulder to shoulder on Dean's bed hours later. They slipped into sleep more easily than they had for the past weeks. They woke up tangled in each other's limbs, trying to be closer than physically possible.

"Let's never do that again." Dean said as Castiel blinked awake.

"Make-up sex?" Castiel asked innocently.

Dean laughed. "Fighting." He brushed a strand of hair off of Castiel's forehead. "Or at least, if we do fight, let's always have awesome make-up sex afterwards."

Castiel chuckled, his whole body vibrating against Dean's. He nuzzled his nose sleepily into Dean's shoulder (which Dean found endearing and Castiel thought nothing of it). "Of course, Dean." Castiel placed a light kiss against his collarbone. "Let's go take a shower." 

When they was fresh out of the shower, Castiel poked around Dean's room curiously as Dean pulled his clothes on. A sudden silence fell in the room as Castiel stopped shuffling around, and Dean turned to see what held his fascination this time.

Castiel stood by his desk with the drawer open, staring at the 4x6 picture frame in his hands. 

"Dean." Castiel said with a strained voice. "I didn't know you had something like this."

Dean blushed furiously (which Castiel found endearing because his freckles stood out and Dean thought of it as 'embarrassingly unmanly'). He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the flush creeping up to his ears. "I, uh, yeah. I do."

"You framed it?" Castiel asked with amusement.

Dean shrugged. "It's your masterpiece, right? Figured it at least deserved a framing."

Castiel was across the room with speed Dean didn't think was humanly possible, and was all over him again, which Dean gladly responded with a lot of enthusiasm. Half an hour later, they were both trying to catch their breaths when Dean muttered, "Well that was a waste of a shower."

Castiel laughed quietly against his chest. "We can go shower again if you want." He said lewdly.

Dean chortled. "Dude, I don't even know where you get all that stamina from."

That night, Sam walked back into the apartment as he announced, "I'm coming in so for the love of everything good in this world, stop whatever you're doing."

Dean threw Castiel's eraser at him. Sam smirked at the sight of them sitting side by side by the couch. "Don't ever pull me into your fights again. I felt like one of those kids watching their parents go through a divorce." He said, chucking the eraser back at Dean. 

"But Sammy! Who else would I have to rely on to listen to me talk shit about Cas' hideous trench coat?" Dean asked, grazing Sam's hair with the eraser.

"Like you're the one to criticize anyone on fashion." Sam responded, the eraser hitting Dean square on the forehead.

"Will you two stop throwing my eraser?" Castiel said with irritation. They both replied by throwing the nearest non-lethal object at Castiel, which was a couch pillow and a pen.

The painting of a single yellow ivy leaf on a red brick wall kept Dean Winchester going whenever he was going through tough times. It grounded him when he needed it, got him through the day when he couldn't go on, and reminded him on what was important to him when he needed the reminder. 

In the far future, the framed picture may be tucked away somewhere, safely wrapped with some type of cloth for preservation of the colour, but still within Dean's reach when he needed it. His children might find it one day and ask him what it was and Dean will surely answer with a truly content smile, "Your dad's masterpiece. One of my most treasured possessions."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading this!! It's so very much appreciated and I wish you all a happy rest of the day.


End file.
